Immoral Relativity

Immoral relativity

It has been three years since my brother in law became a woman. My therapist says I should try writing things down. But he doesn’t know what I’m dealing with. I sit staring at his empty face, hoping for something insightful. Somehow, I’ve ended up with a therapist that has more problems than I do.

He asks in all seriousness: “Do you know what you have when you point the finger at someone? - Four fingers pointing back at you.”  I can’t believe I’m paying for this. I want to mock him, to put on a superior expression and ask in all seriousness. “Do you know what you will get if you pull my finger?” 

I wonder what the chubby little man will do if I tell him what is really bothering me, about what I have done. How my conscience is constantly running its nails all over my nervous system. I bet his little stubby hands will squeeze his thick knees. He’ll come up with a real cheesy sports analogy to buy some time. Then he’ll leave the room to get a cognitive therapy test. Of course while I’m waiting he’ll most definitely call the police. Then while I sit filling out multiple choice questions like: “Do you think you can control small animals with your mind, Yes, No, Sometimes.” The police drag me off to jail. Of course, I can always plead insanity but that won’t work. What I did was more than sane it doesn’t matter where I am arrested.


When my little sister Gena was real young, we would play games like soccer or baseball. “I’ll give you five points.” I would say. It was a handicap to make the game a little more challenging for me. Sometimes I would let her get way ahead and then I’d come back and beat her. She always resented that. She never wanted me to patronize her. She felt like she could take care of herself and sometimes she did. A few times I couldn’t catch up and she won. I was the one that introduced her to Doug.  Doug was a friend from college. He was on the rugby team. He doesn’t get offended when I call him Gallagher.  When I see him I think of a crazy little black haired comedian, who likes to smash watermelons. Of course that’s all changed now.


About three years ago, I come home from playing tennis and I find Gena crumpled up on my kitchen floor weeping. “I’m pregnant.” She says in between contorted gasps. She’s lying with her head in the crook of her arm, like she’s playing hide and go seek.  She has on a white blouse that’s tucked neatly into her denim jeans. I try to pick her up but she is so skinny and so heavy. She heaves and shakes then her voice is calm. “The first time he hit me I was sleeping. I asked him why he hit me. He said I was talking about another man in my sleep.” She cries a little. “He sees other women. I’ve never seen any other man. I confronted him and he dragged me into the bathroom and held my head in the toilet. Today he played Russian roulette with the gun aimed at my stomach. I’m afraid he’s going to kill me.”

I stand very still with my tennis racket in my hand. I know if I move it will be like pulling a trigger, my foot slides a little and my racket goes into my 46 inch plasma TV screen. Gena looks up. Her face is bruised and her eye is swollen shut. For a second I don’t recognize her.  “He doesn’t mean it.”  The statement is so unoriginal. It makes me electric. I put my fist through the sliding glass door.  Then I force it open and walk out onto the deck that looks over my driveway onto the bay. I hear her voice slide along with me “What am I going to do about the baby.” She’s seriously thinking about an abortion. I pick up my Weber grill and throw it into the windshield of my Mercedes Benz. She is wailing again and I feel sorry. I make her some hot chocolate. She sleeps in one of the guest rooms. I don’t sleep at all.

The very next morning her cell phone rings while I’m making her banana pancakes. She has just had a shower and is sitting at my dining room table in an oversized white terry cloth robe, sipping hot water. Her brown hair is short nappy and wet. Her mushy face is fresh and still. It’s Gallagher, he’s in the hospital. He has to have a gall bladder removed. He’s sorry. He needs her. She puts down her mug and goes to get dressed. “Your not even going to eat?” She shakes her head. “Does he know about the baby?” Her head continues to sway. I slide my spatula under a gooey pancake and put the end in my mouth its burning hot. I eat it enjoying every painful sensation.

I go to the hospital. Gallagher is in bed with a striped gown. His thin unkempt hair is exaggerated by the pillow pressing from behind his head. He’s a wiry intense little man. He’s violently forcing peanuts into his mouth while watching baseball. He’s already a big fan of the new expansion team.  Gena is looking out the window watching planes take off from the San Francisco airport.

I set a twelve pack of beer by his bed.
“Gallagher, what’s up?”
“Oh you know, Gena. She keeps busting my chops to get this gall bladder taken out. I wish she’d find another hobby. All she does all day is complain about me. It’s the only thing she seems to be good at.”  Gena is silent. I begin to feel itchy but I bite my lip.

“Gallagher, remember in college when my leg was broke and all the guys went hiking and I insisted on going too. As soon as we got there the rest of the guys took off up the trail and left me in the dust, but you stayed behind and walked with me. Do you remember that?”

“Yeah, I remember. I hadn’t been out with a girl since junior high and you had a sister. I was willing to do anything to get a date. I would have helped shave your back if it gave me a chance with a girl.”

“Well I never forgot that my friend. And I want to do you a favor.”

“A favor, what kind of favor?”

I had the pitch all rehearsed in my head but it stuck on my tongue it was frozen and stiff.
“Listen, I know you and Gena haven’t had a vacation in a while. You’re going to take some sick leave. This gall bladder is no big deal. Why not come with me to Manilla. They have a hospital there that makes this place look like a single wide mobile home. I know you don’t have good insurance. I’ll pay cash for the whole show. It’s great down there. They’ve got the ocean they’ve got golfing they’ve got tennis.”



Gena’s pensive eyes seem to sharpen.

Gallagher’s ape like hand swings down and fills itself with peanuts then it creeps towards his face like it’s stalking prey. His eyes are focused on the game. Then the peanuts rush into the gaping hole. Like mortar filling a precipice. Pressed and crunched bits of nuts fall from his face like arms and legs of peasants fall from the mouths of giants.
“Manilla, Are you kidding?”

“ All they have to do is wheel you across the street. You don’t even need to leave your gurney. We can be there in eight hours. When was the last time you flew first class?  I get up and whisper in his ear “I hear the night life in Manilla is to die for.” I wink. He looks out the window and smiles, his black mustache twists with his lips. “Ill do it.”  I know he will. I have it all planned out. I look at his long black scraggly hair. It’s perfect. He is going to be a halfway decent woman.

Gena is quiet like a monk. All the way to Manilla she doesn’t say a word to me. Every once in a while she looks at me. Like I’m a murderer, only she doesn’t try and stop me.

  The hospital in Manilla is everything I said and more. The only problem is the doctors. They are a little more thorough than I have anticipated. They insist on having some thorough discussions about the sex change operation with the patient beforehand. Even though I have explained that he is a very important person and is very psychologically sound and doesn’t need to talk about the procedure. They insist. I pay them extra. We sign some papers they still need to consult with him. At least once.

We sit in the immaculate room. It is more like a suite at the Waldorf Astoria. I sip some herbal tea and smile at my mute sister and the unsuspecting Gallagher. I don’t move but my mind is pacing trying to find a solution to the doctor’s sex change explanation and the surprise that Gallagher is going to have when he hears it. I speak tagalog fairly well my only hope is that the Doctor is Phillipine and doesn’t speak English. Then I can pretend to translate. If only I had more time. In walks Dr. Espinoza.
“Dr. Espinoza it is so good to see you.”

“It is good to be seen.” He smiles. He is not Philippine.

“Where are you from Dr. Espinoza?” I ask smiling, as I shake his hand.

“I am from Mexico.”

“Oh I love TJ. and of course Cabo, that is one of my favorite places. I am from San Francisco and this is my sister Gena, and my good friend Doug, also known as Gallagher. Not the real Gallagher, but he bears some resemblance I think. He is really looking forward to this operation. Just a few little snips right doctor?”

“Well this is an extensive procedure. I see you have signed the medical and psychological reviews and that you have had some detailed discussions with your therapist about this procedure. This is quite a change you are going to be making. I hope you are aware of this?”

Gallagher’s thick bushy eyebrows are uniting in concern. He laughs a little.
“What do you mean?”

I jump in-
“Oh you know partner they’re just a little bit thorough down here like I told you. You have no idea how bad the American health care system is until you go abroad they are very thorough. Didn’t I tell you the service here was above and beyond? They leave no stone unturned. Am I right Dr. Espinoza?” I walk over to Gallagher and put my arm around him and smile at the doctor.

“Yes that is true. Of course we do not want to make any mistakes not in a surgery of this magnitude. Tell me what makes you want to change? I just want to know that you are ready for this procedure. We do not want any buyer’s remorse.” He chuckles.

I laugh emphatically
”Oh of course not doctor. Gallagher my friend, tell this man the pain that you have experienced recently.”

Gallagher sighs.
“Well it hurts. The MD’s in the states said it could wait but you know I figure I should get it done, do it now it won’t be so bad later on.”

I interject-
“Galagher tell him what it has done to you emotionally.”

He takes a deep breath.
“Well, It has hurt my relationship with Gena. I’m just not able to be what I need to be for her. It has made me tired. I just am not able to perform very well at work. I have a lot of stress at work, I’m a weight trainer and have a lot of important clients, but the main thing is Gena. I want to get her off my back. She’s always nagging me about it.”

I interject again-
“Well of course you want to do this for you, right?” I chuckle.

“Yeah, of course.” He chuckles.

The Doctor’s confusion is evident. He looks to me with my arm around Galagher and my insane smile. He looks closely at Gena probably at her short hair and diffident expression. He shrugs.

“Very well, I will see you tonight by tomorrow morning the metamorphosis will be complete, the worm will be a bright beautiful butterfly.” He smiles and turns and leaves the room.

“These foreigners are really sentimentally aren’t they?” I nod my head at Gallagher.

He laughs.
“Crazy people can’t understand a thing their saying. I hope their cuttin’ is better than their talkin’” He pulls up his sheets and closes his eyes. “Gena, get me a beer.”

“Your going to be under anesthesia in eight hours.”
He opens his eyes and glares at her.

She goes to the fridge.

I can’t believe I didn’t see this all before.

After Doug takes a nap I ask Gena to come out into the hallway with me.

“Gena, Gallagher wants you to fly back to San Francisco and get his golf clubs. He wants to play some rounds when he’s done here.”

She shakes her head. “You’re trying to take care of this aren’t you? You never believed in me you were always watching for me to fall so you could come in and save the day. Not this time.”

“Gena, just go to San Francisco.”

“What for?”

“For yourself, and the baby.”
A nurse walks by and I smile at her. Then my smile fades and I glare at Gena the way Gallagher did before when he wanted her to get him the beer.

“Just do it all right.”

“What’s going to happen to him? Your going to kill him aren’t you?”
She’s upset, she’s getting too close now. None of this matters if she knows too much and is dragged down with me.

“Gena, me and Gallagher have a secret.”

“What is it?”

“He has cancer. He didn’t want you to know. That’s why were here. The doctors in the states wouldn’t touch it. This is his last chance but it’s desperate. He doesn’t want you here for this.”

She starts to cry.
“Why doesn’t he?”

“He has his pride he doesn’t want you to see him sick. He’s sick. He just won’t show you. That’s why he has been acting so crazy lately.”

“I want to be with him.”

“You’ve got to honor his wish.”

I drive her to he airport and give her the ticket I have already purchased.
She’s inconsolable the whole time.

Then I wait. I tie up a few loose ends. I try and find a hamburger. And as soon as the surgery is over I call Gena.

“Gena I have terrible news Gallagher didn’t make it. I know it’s terrible. I don’t believe he died. I think he just changed. We made some plans for you in case this happened. He didn’t have any life insurance but I am going to take care of you. Gallagher talked with me about this and I told him I would take care of all the trouble with the body. It’s just as well to have him cremated here and I’ll bring the ashes back and we can have a funeral up there. It’s a shock this whole thing. It just came so fast, take care little sister. I love you. I will be here about two weeks getting everything together. Bye Bye.”

I go back to the hospital in the morning and talk to a contact in the accounts department. He agrees to remove all records of Gallagher from their hospital. Gallagher is still unconscious. I have him removed to a small villa I have rented by the ocean.  I set him up in the living room below a wall of gold speckled mirrors the rest of the room is paneled in smooth dark wood. There is very little light from a ceiling fixture full of dead bugs. I have hired an elderly Philippine nurse from the hospital. I call her Annie because she is so sweet and sassy like some kind of old west gunfighter, I want to tell her to go get her guns. I wait for Gallagher to recover. He’s groggy all day. In the evening he slips into lucidity for a few minutes. I tell him what has happened.

“Gallagher you’re a friend of mine. I have known you for a number of years. I found out you have been beating the living snot out of my little sister. That is inexcusable. That conduct will not be tolerated. You have received a sex change. Gena thinks you are dead. Your Aunt Lucille thinks you are dead. That is the way it will stay.”

He gasps a little and lies still. He doesn’t have the strength to fight.

“You will live in the Philippines for three years. You will live as a woman in a convent. Your name will be Sister Maria Gallagher. You must not leave the convent. A private detective agency and a few corrupt policemen will be monitoring your progress. If you make any attempt to leave the Philippines or if you try and make contact with Gena, you will be arrested for prostitution and thrown into prison without charge.”

He makes a low moaning gurgling sound.

“You are now a Mexican national living in the Philippines. You are no longer an American citizen. If you behave yourself down here and cooperate, three years from this day you will be given a reverse sex change and you will be able to pick up where you left off with Gena.”

He closes his eyes.


Annie takes care of him like he is the little girl she never had. She gives him his estrogen and brushes his hair. He is sullen and morose. He seems to have resigned himself to his fate. After a few days he asks me for a few things in a civil tone and I oblige him. He wants some pizza and a six pack of beer. It isn’t easy to find good pizza in Manilla but no beer. It just wouldn’t be proper for a woman considering a religious order.

After a couple of weeks and some house calls from a very skilled veterinarian Maria Gallagher was given a clean bill of health. I left her at the convent in Manilla in the care of a very loving Sister Agape Lucille. She agreed to let Maria Gallagher stay as a guest, and I agreed to give a considerable endowment to pay for several free clinics in the outskirts of Manilla.



It’s been three years and I sit in my therapists office scribbling violently listening to the short bald man lecture. I can’t keep all of this to myself. Gena is doing well she is married to Guy Lugardi a Command Master Sergeant in the American National Guard. She had her baby it’s a boy and she named him Geraldo, they are all doing fine. I got a letter from Gallagher a few days ago. He says he is well and that what I did was gods will. He’s learned tagalog and wants to start a new life in the roller derby in Manilla. The reports from the detective agency confirm his gender acceptance. He seems happy and has snuck out of the convent to meet a man, some big shot roller derby producer.

Still, I cannot hold it in any longer there is only one place I can be free and that is in prison. My conscience is constantly bleating like a stuck sheep. I need to be free of the atrocity that I have committed. I don’t care if it ruins their lives I have to tell someone the truth. I tell the short chubby therapist everything.

He tells me a story about his stepson playing Pop Warner Football. “The boy just saw some hurt in the other player’s eyes and during the play he gave him a hug. He was penalized for holding. The team was put back ten yards. But what he did was right. I’m going to get you a dissonance test. I’m sensing you have a little inner conflict about this.”

I stand up I can’t take it any more.
“If you don’t come back here with the police. I’m going to throw this coffee table through the dry wall.”

“I am sorry but I can’t call the police it would break the sanctity of the client doctor privilege to do that.”

“It would be a crime against humanity not to call the police.” I yell.

“I am sorry; I just can not divulge anything you just told me to the police.”
I pick up the glass coffee table and fling it against the wall. It hits a stud.  There is a loud explosion as the glass shatters into a myriad of pieces that scatter all over the room. I stare at the dent in the drywall taking deep breaths.

The little man is outraged.
“If you don’t leave this instant I am going to call the police.”  I throw up my arms in exasperation and walk out of the room. I give the office manager a check for three thousand dollars to cover the damages. I tell her I will never be coming back. She says I am not welcome to.

I sit in my home and watch the sun go down into the Pacific Ocean, it disgusts me. I turn on the T.V and watch Law and Order for a few minutes.  Then, I flip the channel to Espn. They’re playing some clips from American roller derby. The girls are skating around in a battle royale. Some of them seem happy. Maybe what I did wasn’t so bad after all. I watch a commercial for the Christian Childrens fund and donate some money.  I watch the news for a little while there is a report about how the government is spending it’s limited drug resources battling meth production in the US. I call my manager in Columbia. “It’s a good time to start increasing production.”  He agrees. I finish scribbling on my notepad and go to bed.